


it's like the sun came out

by callmeshakesqueer



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Deaf Character, F/M, Fluff, Miracles, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeshakesqueer/pseuds/callmeshakesqueer
Summary: Since his teenage years, the Doctor isn't able to hear. Sometimes he is imagining the sounds of music can reach his ears but of course, it is always just a pure fiction.So is it a fiction too, when he walks into the coffee shop and finds himself listening to the voice of a lovely woman who is standing behind the counter with the cutest smile he has ever seen?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This idea was stuck in my head since winter, when I saw a prompt really similar to this on a Facebook group and this fic just waited to be written down. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I loved writing it!

The weather is beautiful, the Sun is bright and shining, there are no clouds in the sky. A warm wind gets through the fabric of the Doctor's red velvet coat and messes with his hair. Probably the birds are singing, because it all seems so perfect, the man thinks, but he can't really tell. Actually, he can't tell anything when it comes to the sounds. Since his teenage years, he can't tell if the music on the radio is good, if the dialogues in a TV show or a movie are good ‘cause mostly those bastards from television don't make subtitles. He doesn't feel sorrow most of the time, but he curses on the God only when it is about his guitar. He bought it for a joke and irony while he was drunk, back then in his twenties. After a few months, he started to play it from boredom. His friends were saying he was good, thanks to his intuition and it was the only thing that was pissing him off. The Doctor really wanted to know by himself if he was good. Sometimes he thought, or rather imagined, honestly he can't tell if it was true, but he was hearing instrumental part of the music, he felt it like the electricity coming through his veins. Maybe it was real, maybe he just wanted to hear so badly that he was pretending and fooling to hear. Who knows?

The bells placed above the door of the coffee shop moves and probably rings when he opens the entrance. It is a new cafeteria on the street he lives and he decided to take a look at what is going here. Something feels really wrong and odd inside, at the first moment the Doctor can't say what. Everything looks normal: the furniture, walls, and counter are in minimalistic style, there are several clients sitting or waiting in the queue. But then, he realizes.

A voice.

A voice sweet like caramel. In a kind tone, with strong Blackpool accent.

He is confused and looks around. A young brunette stands behind the counter and takes orders from a few teenagers. And he can actually hear her.

"Two cappuccinos, right?" She sounds so sweet and polite. It's the first voice in his whole life. A random woman is the first human being who says something he can hear and understand. The Doctor is in an awe.

For a short moment, he stays in place, looking like a moron but quickly realizes what he is doing doesn't seem normal and moves towards the cash register and unknown magical woman. Everything is quiet as always, except for her. She is the only sound and a very beautiful one, he has to admit.

He waits a few short seconds, until the group in front of him leaves the queue with their hot drinks and sit in the corner of the room. Then, he walks closer and the brunette smiles at him. He notices a badge with a name on the chest. "Clara", it is. Clara, Clara, Clara, he repeats to himself as whispers in the mind. Clara is the first sound in past forty-five years, such a long life. He should probably give her a prize for being hearable.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

Exactly, what can she get him? Maybe an explanation for this miracle? And should he act like he can hear her or like he is still deaf? Well, he is definitely still deaf but should he also be deaf for her?

"I'll take one black coffee, no sugar." The man orders, his eyes way too wide to look casual. He can't stop his trembling hands, he is too excited. Not because of ordering coffee of course, but because of this... impossible girl. She is impossible for sure.

She nods writing it down on the paper and disappears behind slightly opened doors and two minutes later, she is back and hands a hot cup of drink to the Doctor.

"It'll cost 1,5£." He gives her the money and murmurs ‘thanks'. He takes a sit as close as he can to the counter and tries to discreetly watch the woman. Clara.

The man doesn't even realize that after twenty minutes, his coffee is already cold because he is so lost in thoughts. He takes a small sip and finds out, as a million times before, how nasty and bad it tastes. He hates cold coffees. If the devil ever made something purely in his hand, that had to be cold coffee.

He forgets about the drink again what is caused by the view of Clara. He has to admit – she is truly gorgeous. She is tiny and pleasantly roundish, looks cute in the short, blue and white dress and oh, the face. She has an upturned small nose, pretty raspberry-pink lips, smooth cheeks with the red blush on them and the biggest part are her eyes. They are so big, and so dark, that he could actually drown in them and look like they are inflating. But the thing he adores the most is her voice. Her voice is a symphony to his ears. He doesn't want to leave, not at all. He just wants to listen to her forever. But he needs to come back to the apartment.

Before walking out, next to the empty cup he puts the big tip. She deserves even more than he gives but he doesn't have more money in his wallet. The Doctor hears the last ‘'What can I get you?" and then, opens the door leading outside.

* * *

It becomes the Doctor's routine to visit the cafeteria. Clara isn't always there, but most of the time the Doctor can hear her mesmerizing voice around. As the months pass, he never misses the opportunity to see the woman wearing cute blue waitress dress.

She learns with time what he is always ordering. Jet black coffee, no sugar, the drink must be bitter as hell. It doesn't match the Doctor, even though he is deaf and life wasn't kind to him, he isn't bitter like his coffee at all. He enjoys being alive and likes functioning even more since he is able to hear, well, one person, but it's still something.

There are days when he wants to talk to Clara, tell her she is the only one and get into the deep conversations with her. Show the waitress to his friends because most of them think that he's freak and he completely lost his mind. Honestly, all of them thinks so, the exception for Missy. She always thought he isn't normal so hearing about Clara, the magical girl who the Doctor can hear, didn't make any difference, in her opinion, the Doctor lost his mind years ago, on the day when he decided to call himself with the stupid nickname and ignored everyone who called him „John".

"You seem to like this place."

This time he already drank the black coffee and sits at the counter, nearer to Clara than he has ever been. The empty cup almost falls down on the floor as he suddenly moves, hearing the woman. Clara catches the glass in the air before it can shatter.

"Uh, sorry-" The Doctor face becomes red in all possible shades, his neck and ears too.

"It's okay," Clara smiles, probably amused by his facial expression and clumsiness. " So, why are you here so often? Do I have a fan of my coffee?"

She leans in, to him, when her elbows rest in the counter. The woman looks like she is truly interested and curious.

"Yeah, i-it's pretty good." He doesn't know what the hell he is doing. He never had any kind of problems with talking to women, but this particular one is really attractive and young, and well, the first one he can hear.

She giggles at his unsure voice and words, slightly tilting her head on the side.

"You're cute," She takes the cup and heads towards the door leading to the kitchen.

"Uh, you too." He responds, wanting to fall under the ground and feeling strong burning on his cheeks.

She laughs so melodiously it emanates to every cell in the Doctor's body. Something is happening and the man has no idea what but the sound of her giggles replay in his ears like the sweetest devotion, the only thing he can see in front of his eyes is her smile, and big golden brown eyes, and pointy small nose which begs to be kissed. And his heart dangerously skips a beat, something kicks his guts in the stomach.

The cowardly part of the Doctor wants to get up and ran away as far as possible, but the other part has a big urge to thanks the universe which let him meet Clara, he wants to scream on the roof of the tallest building in London that he can hear her. Maybe his friends were right – he lost the common sense.

The fact he can hear the waitress sits on his chest and strangles him, he is choking. What would Clara say if she'll find out how crazy he is?

But this time the Doctor won't get the answer because the coward in him wins and before the brunette comes back to the counter, he is already on the way back home.

And he can't see the disappointment on Clara's face when she is back and the only thing that is waiting for her is money. No sight of the mysterious and clumsy customer.

* * *

"I'm deaf." The Doctor blurts out one day.

It's windy evening, the rain pours down since the morning without any breaks and it's too late for coffee but the man doesn't have a social life, or probably he doesn't want to be part of it. The Autumn kicks in full version and completely at the beginning of October.

The cafeteria is empty, not a single soul there and the lights are off, except for few ones which are placed closer to the counter and those in the kitchen, it makes a great atmosphere, especially when from time to time storm takes over and they, or rather only the woman, can hear the thunder outside.

Clara writes down the list of supplies the coffee shop needs to buy for the next week while the Doctor is trying out three new recipes for the cakes.

The bond between them is kind of odd and unlike. Maybe they are only a waitress and a weird customer who met by lucky accident but they already have inside jokes and sometimes, but only sometimes, when she is brave enough, Clara greets the Doctor with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You're what?" She gets her eyes off the sheet of paper and stares at him with exhausted eyes, the Doctor never thought that by working in a cafeteria human can look so tired but well, she looks so. The man can't disagree - she is still gorgeous, even with the circles under her eyes or too slim face that her cheekbones and jawline are actually looking like they want to cut through her face, she lost a lot of weigh since their first meeting. Like there is something eating her from the inside, he wants to know what. He cares too much in a way you shouldn't care for a stranger. There's a giant hope that he keeps inside his heart after the question falls out of her lips that she will think she overheard.

"I'm a wizard." The Doctor jokes with a mouth full of carrot cake, wanting to take his earlier words back.

"No," Clara puts her blue pen aside, next to the list, the frown on her face becomes bigger. "What did you say earlier? For real."

The Doctor is silent and wishes very strongly to disappear, blow away like smoke. She'll think he is mad, out of this world in every negative way possible.

"I'm deaf." He repeats murmuring and probably his words are so quiet she can barely hear him. But he can't tell.

"What?" Even more wrinkles appear between Clara's eyebrows and she leans in like she always does when she talks with him. The Doctor can imagine how the mechanisms in her brain are working and processing the information. This facial expression makes her look older by a few years and he can even say that more tired. It hurts to look at, it disturbs him. Her beauty and her exhaustion. Too much, it's blinding. "What do you mean by ,,deaf"?" Next question falls out of her smart mouth.

"I mean- I can't hear," The man makes a short pause and before Clara can say anything else, just when her lips part again, he continues. "You're the only person I'm able to hear. That's why I keep coming here everyday."

She laughs, of course, she laughs. What anything else would she do?

"Good joke, Doctor."

But when his face falls down and he doesn't add anything, Clara's amused face disappears and in substitute, she recalls the frown at her face back.

"Oh my stars, you are serious."

The brunette gets up and rests her elbows a little further from the Doctor. She tightly holds her phone in the left hands, looking nervous. The glance she gives him is giving the man the chills and shivers. Goddammit, that's it, she's going to cut him off from her life.

"Explain," Clara asks with a demanding voice. The lasts of pretty, cute facade fade away and in front of him, all that stays is the confused, scared and vulnerable woman. She thinks he is some psychopath, the Doctor is sure and it makes him more stressed than she is.

"When I was fourteen I had an accident and since then, I'm not being able to hear. Almost my whole life I didn't hear a single sound, the silence was always my companion... until you." The Doctor starts, wondering if she'll kick him out of the local. "Late spring, when I walked in here, from pure curiosity. And I heard you. For the first time in such a long time, I heard a voice."

Clara is skeptical, he can tell by the look in her eyes. She is so dear to him, losing her means completely losing the ability to hear and well, that is what's going to happen. He can't lose her, God no.

"I don't know if I believe you. I mean, it's absurd," Clara shakes her head, her voice sounds strange, tearing by the hesitating. "You should go now."

The Doctor should have known that it could only end like this.

 

And he leaves. The man doesn't come back for a long time. Every day, on his way to the office, he passes the cafeteria but never glances inside. Life is boring and blue. Because what is the point of living right now? He got to taste the haven and Clara took it away from him. All that left is hell.

Everything is quieter than it ever was, the silence pains the Doctor like never. He plays the guitar often and imagines sounds, but every single accord is just one of many notes in Clara's voice. Her voice and the woman follows his thoughts everywhere and he wants to pull his hair out, cry or fall asleep for infinity.

Because Clara became his addiction and there's no cure.

After three weeks, when the Doctor is coming back from work, he needs to go there. And no one can stop him.

"Don't you dare," Missy would say, just like during the evening when the Doctor told Clara the truth and later whined about it to his best friend. "I think she clearly said to stay away, like, forever. So don't go there."

He tried to argue with her and also trick his own mind but Missy stopped using sign language and started to talk aloud. Of course, the Doctor couldn't hear it and it was cruel of her to do so. She wasn't Clara. Missy wanted to show him this way how fucked up his brain was.

But Missy isn't with him right now and the man opens the door of the coffee shop, entering the warm local.

Clara's hair is shorter, he notices, and a few shades lighter. Only a few weeks passed and she already changed something. Except for that, nothing looks different – maybe only now her face is filled with Autumn melancholy. He missed her so much it burns his ears to listen to her voice and eyes to look at her.

Her head goes towards the door, hearing the opening. Eyes become wide that the Doctor is actually worried for a moment they are going to pop out. Her eyes are too big for the tiny round face. He moves towards the counter.

"Black coffee, no sugar." She smiles at him and it seems sincere.

"You remember?" The Doctor is startled and by her words, and by her gentle facial expression.

"Why wouldn't I?"

A bittersweet smile appears on the Doctor's lips which seem so lifeless it hurts to look. Many answers arise in his head but he says none of them. He only hands Clara money for a coffee she gives him a moment later. He really thought it would be easy to come back here, but the sound of the woman's voice feels like a fire in his ears. So the Doctor sits in the corner, to be far away from the brunette, though he still can hear her. It feels like he is a demon on the saint ground, in the paradise – somewhere where he isn't wanted and where he doesn't belong. It was a mistake seeing Clara again but his body is glued to the chair, the feet to the floor.

He takes a sip of the hot drink and immediately feels a strong taste of sugar. The scene of Clara giggling as she is adding sugar to the coffee shows up behind his closed, tired eyelids. But okay, maybe he can agree – it doesn't taste bad sweet.

"I think I believe you."

The Doctor almost jumps, surprised by the voice appearing next to him, from nowhere. Clara wears the black skirt and the sweater the same color, her blue-white dress of a waitress is gone. Her hair is free and falls down, slightly touching the arms. She places two plates with a chocolate cake on the table, one in front of the Doctor. He frowns.

"I asked my co-worker if I can leave earlier, so we could talk." She explains and takes a hungry bite of sweet cake.

"You believe me? That's a big change of heart." He is scared that she is only joking to hurt him because most people are cruel, even though it doesn't sound like her, to make others suffer.

"I mean, you wouldn't come back here, I'd be scared if I were you to visit this place again. And you sounded honest when you told me about... the thing." Clara speaks with the full mouth, like she wasn't able to eat for the past few weeks, like was starving all this time. "And after I kinda kicked you out of here, I couldn't sleep. And function at all because well, I felt guilty. You don't seem like kind of type who lies, especially about such abstractions. But it still seems very impossible-"

"You seem impossible," He says before thinking it through and instantly blushes for his own stupidity. "I'm sorry, shouldn't have said that but I'm great at saying things which I shouldn't."

"Why?"

"Why what?" The Doctor is so embarrassed, he completely forgets what did he say a few moments earlier.

"Why am I impossible?"

"Because I can hear you and every doctor I've been to, told me it can't happen. Never, ever, ever, ever."

Clara nods, thinking about everything he said.

"So what's your name?" The question seems out of the topic and is completely not about what they were talking. But maybe it'll be easier if they just accept, well, maybe if Clara accepts the fact that the Doctor is deaf. And that she is a miracle.

"The Doctor." It sounds unreal but that's the truth. He doesn't use his real name anymore. „John" is too boring.

"No, that can't be your name. I want us to begin with honesty." She declares and crosses her arms, resting on the backrest of the chair. He notices by now, she is shaking and he doesn't know if she is afraid or cold. Reading feelings isn't his best attribute.

"I'm serious," He bents down a little to be at the same level of eyes with Clara. "Nobody calls me by my „real name"," He does a funny gesture to underline two last words. "anymore. I'm just the Doctor."

"Why?"

"It does not suit me. It's too ordinary and common." The Doctor explains, starting to eat sweetness placed on a plate in front of him.

"Okay. I'll accept this for now, but sooner or later I want to know what's beneath your nickname."

The man laughs at her threatening voice but agrees with a nod. Only over a dozen minutes passed and Clara already looks healthier, the guilt must have really eaten her from inside. Her voice is cheerful, despite the tone from a few seconds earlier. He needs to get her to talk to him as much as possible.

"Oh, and I'm Clara. Clara Oswald." She gives him that cute smile which holds and squeezes his heart.

Now, when his cup and their plates are empty, she takes a look around and starts to get up. The idea of Clara leaving makes the Doctor scream on the inside. She can't disappear again.

"Shall we go on a walk?"

A melodic laughter leaves her throat when the man puts a smile on his face so wide that it's not even human. She can see all of his teeth.

They put their coats on to protect themselves from the wind outside. Clara immediately sets her eyes on the Doctor's velvet coat.

"Where did you get it?" She asks and takes him by the hand. They walk towards the exit.

His smile becomes smaller and mysterious as a response.

"Next secret? How many do you have them?" She shakes her head, like a disapproval but he can find every note in her voice and she is clearly amused.

"I'm a man of mystery." He does a next funny gesture, waving his head in front of the face and can hear giggles emanating from the body of the woman walking next to him.

* * *

"It's too cold for a walk." Clara whines and tightly presses the Doctor's arm to herself. He shouldn't be thinking about it, but he can feel through the fabric of their clothes the shape of her breasts and laughs shyly, trying to push these thoughts away. Her touch still burns him, she is like the damn Sun and it's obvious that if you get too close to it, you will get burned. Sounds like great news. Although he doesn't mind, feeling the warmness.

And yes, it's too cold for a walk, definitely, because they don't have scarves or caps and the wind is tearing through their coats and messing their hair.

"My apartment is placed really close. I don't pressure on anything but if you don't mind, maybe we could-" The man trembles over his own words, blushing again and his tongue is tangled. Why Clara Oswald makes him feel and act this way?

"Yes, Doctor. It's a lovely idea." She smiles at him, so reassuring. "So? Take the lead."

 

It takes only less than ten minutes to get into the Doctor's apartment, since it's on the same street.

"Uhmm... I might have a problem." Before entering the place, he stops.

"Problem?" Clara makes a funny face with her eyebrows raised and slightly opened lips.

"I didn't clean my place... since really long time because most of the time I'm at work or in the cafeteria and when I come back, I'm too exhausted and I'm not even thinking about cleaning."

"I don't min-"

"No! You should mind because I certainly do." His hands are shaking. What the hell is going on? Why is he so nervous? "I've got an idea. You have to count to thousand with closed eyes while I'll be cleaning." The Doctor reaches for her hands and gently puts them on the eyes. She giggles.

"That's a stupid-ass idea, you know?"

"Shhh." He opens the door and helps Clara gets inside, instructing her where she should wait.

The Doctor runs around the home like mad, collecting the empty pizza boxes, single socks without a pair, exceptionally bottle of wine but only one and the papers from the office which are literally everywhere. He opens the windows in the living room and kitchen because the apartment could use some fresh air.

"Eight-hundred forty-six." Clara recites like a machine when the Doctor moves her a little bit left. And then, they both hear a terrifying scream.

"Holy shit! What is this?!" The brunette wants to take her eyes off but he stops her at the right time.

"Eight."

"Eight?!"

"The cat." The man explains, taking the animal in his hands and heading with her towards the living room. He hates this cat, she always gets in the way of something.

"You have a cat?!" She yells.

"It's my friend's. She is on holiday right now and I've to take care of Eight!" Of course, Donna had to has the best timing in leaving.

"But why it is named „Eight"?!" They both yell to hear each other from other rooms and a few years ago, the Doctor would never believe that something like this could happen. Like, he could hear someone else yelling – that would be a pure fiction.

"I didn't name her, so don't ask!"

"Thousand!" Clara ends their conversation and opens her eyes.

"Hey! It's unfair." The Doctor turns to her and narrows the eyebrows.

‘'But everything looks perfect."

The woman doesn't even look around, her eyes are locked on the Doctor what makes him nervous. Cause, there she is, the most charming woman he has ever met, standing right in front of him, only a few meters away and she can't take her eyes off him. It's impossible.

"So?" After a short while, Clara breaks the silence. " Go find some blankets and we'll watch something on the TV."

"Usually they don't add subtitles." The Doctor comes back to the room with one big blue blanket when Clara is already curled up in the corner of his sofa, like a little cat.

"Netflix does." Oswald smiles when he covers her and sits beside.

"I don't have Netflix." He confesses and shrugs.

"What?! Okay, we will use my account but you need some changes in your life." She laughs at him and if the Doctor would reach out his hand, he could touch hers. The thought almost paralyzes him.

"Right now, I feel like I don't need anything else."

He gives her a grin, so delicate and sincere it tugs Clara's heart and for the first time, in years, she feels a faster heartbeat.

She reaches for his hand, entangling their fingers, slowly and gently to not scare the man away.

It really feels like they don't need anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but write the next chapter to this fanfic, totally it'll have three. (my German language skills have suffered because on these classes I'm mostly writing :P)  
> Have you seen a new episode of Doctor Who? I'm in love with Thirteenth Doctor! And also the companions are great.  
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter:)

"Doctor, please, just stop it!" Clara almost cries out but still tries to keep her voice calm, not showing much of the emotions making a hurricane underneath.

She is standing in the hall of his small home, blocking the door from the man's way. There are goosebumps all over her thin skin on the arms because it's so cold in the apartment and even more outside – it's really close to the December's end.

"Clara, let me go." He bents down, already all dressed up, tying his shoelaces.

It's stupid, their fight is one big nonsense but Clara can't talk any sense into the Doctor. He actually doesn't even think that he is leaving her. Alone. In his apartment.

"No! Because you do not listen to me! Everything was perfectly alright and one fucking day I come back from work and you say you're too old for me and I deserve someone better. What the hell happened?!" She is much shorter from him and smaller, and if he only tries to move her, of course, he'll succeed. It's not fair, taking an advantage of her physical appearance but is the man even thinking of such detail?

The Doctor stands up and makes a few steps towards the door. Clara's hand stops him, falling on his torso.

"Talk to me, please." Oswald is clearly begging and the Doctor has never heard so heartbreaking note in her voice before. He almost stays.

It takes one move of his arm to gently change Clara's position and two to open the door.

"Don't you da-" He doesn't hear the ending of the sentence and anything else when the apartment's door closes behind his back.

Of course, later he will regret everything and hope not, maybe he'll lose her. But right now he leaves the building and gets into the car which he almost never uses. Then, he deeply breathes in and out, for the first time in a few minutes. He is alone and he finally starts to think.

It all started because of Missy (who would think, right?) if he has to really blame someone. They met by an accident, or maybe not because you never know with that woman, in the damn cafeteria where Clara works. He was sitting in the corner, in the place which was the beginning of him and Clara, when Missy walked in. He tried to hide, he really did but she had to notice him, there was no other way with her – the devil herself.

"Which one is your Clara?" There was a demonic smirk on her dark lips.

"Do I really need to tell you?" The Doctor's question protested to tell her the answer, he really didn't want to share the information.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"I can ask these girls by myself."

Then, it was the Doctor who rolled his eyes. "The blue dress, she's next to the counter right now." He instrued.

Missy took a discreet glance and her eyes widened. The lips made a round, slightly opened shape.

"She is so..." The woman couldn't find words, startled by Clara. "Young. Are you sure this is your girl?"

The Doctor nodded, kind of proud because yes, Clara was his, and she was gorgeous, magnificent and God, way too smart and kind.

"Don't you think she'll get bored with you?"

He opened his mouth and raised the eyebrows, not expecting that.

"What do you mean?" He needed to understand.

"Well, you're old and bonkers, but she? Take a look at her. Clara has her whole life ahead and you're almost dying." Missy chuckled, probably knowing just then how it will mess him up.

And there he is, sitting in the car and very close to slamming his head against the steering wheel. Instead, the man just delicately places it on the top and makes sure he won't press the horn.

The Doctor doesn't even know what happened. Everything was perfect and then, he fucked up so badly.

All he wanted to, from Spring, was colliding with Clara, he was wishing for them to align like the stars on the sky. And now, when she is with him every single day, talking to him, humming songs and just being, he needed to ruin everything.

First, he wants to pay a visit to Missy and endlessly yell at her but it wouldn't change a thing – it's Missy, she'd only laugh at him. So, he stays in the car and decides to eat junk food.

The car is cold, even colder with the awareness of missing Clara who was always following his tracks, everywhere by his side like she was scared she won't find him again. The Doctor tries to keep the paintings of her out of the mind but she is in everything he sees, she is all over.

 

Turned on the radio in the background probably plays boring love songs, the man guesses even though there's nothing to hear as he lays on the spread passenger seat and without effects tries to fall asleep before he'll fall apart. Under him, there are scattered papers from KFC, everything smells like the food. He reaches for an untouched second cup filled with coke and drinks almost to the very end. It's so freezing that he shakes, the wind is getting through the doors and he has no idea how long he'll be able to endure.

The images from the past two months appear in the messy mind of the Doctor's. Clara laughing at him when he burned a cake he tried to make for her birthday, her flushed face after their first kiss and the first time she fell asleep in his apartment, finally staying a night. He had to carry her to his bed and the man, by himself took the couch. In the morning, when he woke up, she was just right next to him, holding on tight to not fall from the settee, for sure really uncomfortable but she wanted to lie next to him.

Quiet humming he hears when they are falling asleep together, cuddled, under thick bedding. It's always the same song and it keeps the Doctor calm when the sleep starts to surround him. Clara, everywhere Clara, who completely took the control of his head. It's so lonely and freezing, lying here, pathetically – in the vehicle – without her.

The Doctor checks the hour on his phone which has five percent of battery and twelve missed calls. Clara stopped trying to get in contact with him after ten p.m. and already seven hours passed. The parking lot he chose, in front of the grocery store, is completely empty, except for his own car.

After the anxiety attack, shouting like a madman, crying his eyes out and laughing insanely, the Doctor calmed down and lied, exhausted emotionally and mentally. Unsure thoughts are still messing with his mind, because what if Clara will really get bored with him? He is old and doesn't like leaving home too often, his life is boring and actually – he is still deaf. What if Clara will get too tired of putting up with him? He will kill Missy eventually, it's a sure thing, she loves to fuck his brain up.

Knowing he won't fall asleep, he decides to get up and changes the seat from passenger's to the driver's one. The car drives out of the parking lot, leaving it hollow. Its owner is dead-tired but his eyes are wide opened, checking the road all the time. The Doctor wonders if Clara is still there. Maybe she went home and she won't come back, so what's the purpose for him to drive to the apartment since the woman became his home. Goddammit, it's stupid, he is overthinking and completely aware of it.

Their fight, caused by the man is also stupid. He feels guilt and shame but wants to go home really badly, so he ignores the negative emotions. Home, sweet home. Clara's his home, so that's where he should go.

Flowers would be a good thing to give right next to the apology but at five a.m. all florists are closed so he chooses a way straight to the apartment. And honestly, nothing can make up what he has done to Oswald.

The stairs are longing the Doctor's walk to his door and it seems like an eternity passed when he finally, finds himself in front of the home.

He pushes the handle but it's locked. For a next few minutes, he searches through all of the pockets to find the keys.

At first impression, the apartment is empty. No sign of a human being, so that's why the Doctor almost has a heart attack when he opens the door leading to the bedroom and hears snoring and sees Clara curled up so tight that she almost fits the whole body on the pillow. She isn't covered up, shaking and the bottom teeth hitting her up ones. The woman is so fragile and helpless and it's all the Doctor's fault.

The man steps inside and before sitting on the bed, he takes off the boots. He tries to delicately lie next to her, not even taking his coat off to not make more fuss, he doesn't want to wake Clara right now. But the bed makes a sound, disturbing the brunette's sleep which is not peaceful at all and only anxious. She gets up instantly and yells, seeing someone leaning towards her. The Doctor's face gets bruised a little bit when frightened Oswald uses the elbow to hit as hard as she can.

"Clara! Clara, it's me!" He catches her arm before the second hit and the woman stops making any sounds and stops moving. They sit for two very quiet seconds in silence and then he can hear Clara taking a sharp breath. She keeps tears from streaming down her swollen by sleep face.

"You asshole! You left me here alone, a night before New Year's Eve, going God knows where! Since when you are such a drama queen?! I was dying, worrying about you-" she hits him again, now fully aware of her actions. "I want to kill you, I swear."

He has no idea how to answer – he is a jerk, a drama queen, left Clara alone with no kind of explanation. There is no way he can disagree. His head bents down, ashamed.

"Why? What was the reason, Doctor?" He can hear her choked up voice, always too proud to let the tears fall.

"I was- I'm scared that eventually, you'll get bored with me, that I won't be enough for such a young woman like you." The Doctor confesses, deciding the best way is being honest. It's the only thing which can fix them. "I'm old and weird, you can't say no to these facts, and you are... the one in billions. When you are serving in the coffee shop every human's head turns. You are kind, so damn intelligent, talented as hell, a great kisser and hugger, you've goals and passions, you're the perfect woman. And who am I in comparison?"

"I couldn't disagree more." Clara is still mad, it doesn't change the burning flames inside of her but at least she knows the reason now. And the fire changes into compassion for the man. Her heart cries for him, but still – she doesn't understand. How could he think such things? She'd never leave him, never.

Oswald embraces him, the Doctor's face hides in the crook of her neck and salt tears of confusion and exhaustion touch soft skin of Clara's when he lets the emotions pour down.

"When you'll have thoughts like this, you have to talk to me." She tries to comfort him, gently playing one hand with his grey hair and the other is holding him. "I'm not always sure too. Because what my family will say when they'll find out about the age gap in our relationship? Trust me, I have nothing against because I love all of you, but they can not understand. But we have each other, right?"

He moves back.

"You love me?"

There's finally a grin on his face and the red, swollen eyes don't seem so bad anymore.

"Of course I do." Clara caresses his cheek. He is so cold, almost the whole night he spent alone.

"I love you too. And I'm sorry." He bents down, but this time to place a soft kiss on her dry lips. She bites his bottom lip so he the Doctor can't back off. The woman makes him get into a messy, passionate kiss. It was never like this.

Well, they kissed. A lot. Good morning kisses, good night kisses, honey, I'm home kisses, but they all were just a quick touch of lips, nothing more. This time is different.

Oswald takes off the Doctor's coat and pulls him further into the bed. She is already warmed up and once again, as a few months, her touch burns so much when she entangles her arms around the man's naked neck. One of her hands wander off, towards the shirt and starts to unbutton it.

His ears are vulnerable to her voice so when she does there whimpering noises everytime the man sucks on the sweet spot on the neck, it makes his length twitch inside of the trousers.

"Doctor," she murmurs as he lies down on her, but keeping the balance to not crush the petite body under him and slowly moves on Clara's body, up and down. She only wears a nightgown and a thin piece of silky material underneath, so he can feel through the clothes, how warm and wet she is. "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor." She calls him, repeating the nickname like a mantra, moving her hips up to meet him in the middle.

"It's John, actually." The man confesses and feels how Clara completely takes off the shirt, his back is now all in goosebumps as the cold winter wind find a way through the window.

"So, John, help me." She breathes in and out rapidly with every move he does on her. And there's a way he sure can help.

The Doctor pushes himself down, opening Clara's legs widely and even though, it's still dark since it's not even six a.m. and the dawn is far away, he can see that the crap of silk has a wet stain and the scent of it mesmerizes him. He presses his thumb on the material and years shameless moan as Clara's lips delicately open. Her hips are following the moves of a finger, the nightdress slides from her legs and stomach until it's a few centimeters before the breasts.

John pulls down the lingerie so it reaches Clara's knees and closes the eyes, smelling her body. Lazy kisses placed on the inner thighs are causing Oswald's frantic breath and gasps. She doesn't stop moving the hips, there's no patience in her as the Doctor comes closer and closer to her center. And he doesn't even try to stop her moves.

His tongue slightly touches folds as he is entrancing her, without rush, letting himself to taste the woman.

"Oh, Goddammit, just eat me!" Clara growls and if it's possible – she pushes her hips higher, so the tongue starts to explore her flesh.

The Doctor chuckles, really quietly, at the choice of words and starts to lick all of her private skin, soon adding two fingers, entering her without any warning. He can imagine how hard Clara tries to stop her legs from embracing around him, but of course, she'd lose and John is stuck, penetrating and licking, faster and faster.

The legs around his neck are keeping him close but he wouldn't even think about quitting now. She is delicious just as the sounds she is making. Sharp breaths between harsh groans make the Doctor's trousers smaller with every minute. Clara tightens around harder in the same tempo in which fasters her breath, the Doctor feels it everytime he pushes.

John explores her folds once last time just to suck on the flash and looks up to see the view of bliss on Clara's face. The eyes shut, as in focus, and bitten lips parted. He helps her with his fingers, riding out the orgasm.

Clara's clothes roll up when the man crawls back onto her, sanctifying the body with kisses – he caresses the brunette like the dearest treasure, truly regretting his doubts from yesterday. He could lose her, Clara, his whole world. Why sometimes he has such blind eyes? Being deaf isn't enough?

Their naked chests collapse and Oswald opens her eyes. She has pink cheeks, almost in the shade of the opened lips.

"Why have you never done that before," she embraces him and tries to blow off the hair falling on her face. "John?" The woman is smirking when her tongue shapes gently the name.

He can't even answer because there's no time for it – Clara rolls on him and sits with her naked labia pushing the bulging place in the Doctor's trousers. Her hands are put in the air, so the man can help with removing the nightgown. And at this moment, she is in front of him with nothing on, only the wild, divergent hair are dancing around her small face. Clara is having a hard time breathing but she smiles anyway.

Her smart hands find a way down and unbuckle the Doctor's pants and he can see a glint of playfulness in her eyes when his manhood becomes free, except for the thin underwear on it. But in a matter of seconds, the last piece of clothing is gone and he helps her rise a little, just so she could touch the tip of his erection. And then, the man pulls her down. He adjusts himself as she wraps around him. She is still so wet and feels even better.

He wants to close the eyes, just to focus on their bodies pressed together but there may be no more occasions to see her in this state. Despite the urges, he fights himself and stares at her.

In opposition – Clara's eyes are closed, working with her hips in one rhythm letting quiet purrs leave the mouth. Her nipples are perky now and John leans as much as he is able to suck on one of them. The woman's thighs tights around both sides of the Doctor's hips as she feels what he is doing, maybe it's a reassuring gesture but he rubs them.

She is getting closer, just like before when he made a miracle with his tongue. This time the Doctor will be first to come because he won't last any second longer. He brings up the hips, thrusting one more time and spends inside of her, in the warm and wet place, making a hoarse groan and holding her waist.

Their looks cross when Clara opens her eyes. The glance is so kind and full of love that he has to pull her close. Before, one of his hands wanders between their bodies and starts to circles her clitoris, trying to push her over the edge. She bents down, her head doesn't even reach the Doctor's neck and whimpers into his skin. The second orgasm hits her causing incredible feeling down her stomach. She moans loudly, not stopping herself this time and John wouldn't be surprised if some of his neighbors would be woken up right now.

The bed cracks as she rolls from him beside and lies for a short moment, not moving, just sighing. He really hopes he made her satisfied enough.

Clara gets up, sitting next to him and takes the hair off her face, does the same thing to him. She really adores the storm of silver locks which make a halo around his head.

"If you have any kind of doubts..." Oswald caresses his cheek. "Just come to the bed."

They laugh at her words and the Doctor pulls her for a kiss. She is chuckling into his mouth.

"Once again, I'm really sor-" He starts but the woman grumbles and locks their lips again.

"Stop apologizing!" She demands and the light comes out of the window. The dawn comes up and plays with shadows on the bodies.

Clara giggles when John sucks on her neck after getting on her flushed skin. This time he is on top, next also. But she can't let him win all the time, can she?

* * *

It's the Sun which wakes them up, entirely rising and blinding. They're lying unconsciously, bruised a little bit, the Doctor's back is scratched, bedding is on the floor exposing everything.

Surprisingly, the brunette is first to open her eyes, tired after only not whole two hours of sleep and she stretches her arms and legs. John rests his head on her chest, hiding the face and keeping his hand around the woman's waist, murmuring under the breath.

Until he also wakes up, Clara thanks the universe, the starts, every single thing existing that the Doctor has come home last night. Because God knows what could happen to him. It was a dark night and she hasn't even found out where he was. She'll have to ask soon but not right now. The present moment is too precious to ruin it.

Oswald kisses his head, smelling the scent of hair. He is hers, and no one else's. She is his. They belong together, in this second, in the next second and in the one before, too. The stars have aligned, planets have collided, Stardust has fallen on the Earth and a beautiful man has run into a sweet waitress from Blackpool. This could be a story to tell the children at night, such a heart-warming love story.

When her body moves to crawl out of the bed, John cuddles tighter her middle and starts to tickle her stomach.

Clara giggles, trying to make him roll down but the man has another idea. He lies on her and locks their lips together for a long time that she can see the starts in front of her eyes, there is a lack of oxygen in her lungs.

When they part, both are hardly breathing.

"You're insane." She whispers, not having an idea what else she can say.

"I thought you knew that, after all, I've chosen you." The Doctor laughs when he gets a hit by a pillow. It's cold so he picks up the bedding from the floor, covering himself from head to toe and rests his head between Clara's breasts.

"Shouldn't you go to work?" The woman reminds him and laughs seeing the look of horror on his face.

"Goddamn! What time is it?"

He immediately gets up, almost falling down, tangled in sheets. Clara doesn't hide her hungry stare, looking at every single part of John's body. He feels shy a little because it feels like he'd be losing his clothes all over again.

When he checks the hour panic begins and Oswald can't do anything to stop the chaos he makes around the apartment, running everywhere so she decides to stay in bed, only coming out to find her book and make a lot of coffee. Yes, the caffeine is a thing she needs right now, dead-tired, feeling every cell of her body after the night exercising.

But the drink doesn't work and can't fight the exhaustion, so soon she is falling asleep. Just before completely shutting down, the Doctor kisses her forehead and loudly shuts the door.


End file.
